


in the space between our cities (a storm is slowly forming)

by orphan_account



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: ??? - Freeform, Angst, Boys Kissing, Kissing, M/M, Underage Drinking, fun shit like that, i guess, jaemin centric, this one is sad so buckle up boyos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 16:04:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16162241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “muffin,” the boy says, staring intently into jaemin’s eyes, “i need. a. chocolate. muffin.”





	in the space between our cities (a storm is slowly forming)

**Author's Note:**

> title from destination by the church.

sweltering heat crawls up jaemin's back, shoulders, neck. it reaches his face and moves to the top of his head until his skin is damp with sweat. the sun beats down, unforgiving, but jaemin tries hard to withstand the heat.

he lays on the burning ashpalt of an empty basketball court, in a lifeless park. jaemin bends his knees; his jeans stick to his thighs. he brings a hand to his face and his forehead is wet, he smiles. 

he basks in the rays of the sun for another hour. three days later, he declares the t-shirt tan he got was not worth it.

 

 

the cafe by the beach is practically empty. the only people inside are jaemin, his coworker mark, who flicks his pale shoulder each time he passes jaemin, and an elderly man in the corner reading the newspaper.

jaemin is almost tempted to clock out early. the sun is setting, and he has more important things to do (play mario kart with jeno). he pulls his hands away from the lazy knot on the back of his apron when the bell on the door rings.

a boy walks in, dirty blonde hair curly and wild from sea water, a mismatching t-shirt and shorts thrown onto his small frame. he runs his fingers through his hair (or at least tries, the salty water has made his hair dry and tangled), and saunters over to the counter. jaemin is at a loss for words; the boy’s beauty is indescribable.

“h-hi,” jaemin stutters, flustered, “what can i-“

“muffin,” the boy says, staring intently into jaemin’s eyes, “i need. a. chocolate. muffin.”

jaemin is at a loss for words. in his one year of working at the beachside cafe, he’s never heard someone order for a muffin so urgently.

“okay, sit down, i’ll bring it to you.” jaemin says, walking into the back to receive the muffin he asked for. he walks back out to the front to find the boy sitting at the table closest to the counter, head in his arms.

“here you go, sir,” he says, gently laying down the muffin, and as soon as it reaches the table top the boy snatches it and digs in immediately. jaemin is terrified.

he returns to his position behind the counter, mark walks out and jaemin shushes him before he can say anything. he mouths, ‘cute, do you know him,’ and mark shakes his head. ‘sorry’, he mouths back.

the boy is finished with his muffin in what is probably record time. jaemin realizes he ate the wrapper.

pretty boy walks toward the door, about to leave, when jaemin shouts, “don’t forget to sign the book!”.

a guestbook sits by the entrance, the left page is filled with scribbles from white girls to skater boys. the right page is blank. the boy nods, writes something down, and makes his exit.

when jaemin looks through the windows to see he’s gone, he runs over to the book. in place of english letters, something written in mandarin sits in the center of the page. jaemin curses, and punches the wall. the old man in the corner shakes his head.

 

 

jaemin is boiling tortellini in his kitchen. his mother isn’t home, gone for the weekend on a business trip, so he’s left to fend for himself. the pasta rises to the top of the pot.

he has _the church_ playing on the speaker, he slides around the tiled floors and dances along to the music. in the midst of belting into a fork, he hears muffled shouts and thumping from the hallway outside the apartment. he pauses the music, and decides to investigate.

he opens the front door, peeks his head out, and is taken aback by what he sees.

it’s the boy from the shop, banging his fists against the door next to jaemin’s apartment. he pulls back from the door to shove his hands into the pockets of his green cargo pants, searching, then throwing himself onto the door again. jaemin decides to speak up.

“do you need help?” he says, quieter than intended, but he’s too embarrassed to speak any louder.

“i’m locked out of my apartment,” the boy says, “i don’t know what else to do.”

blinded by his infatuation, jaemin invites him inside. now, the boy is sat on his couch, vans sitting by the entryway. jaemin proceeds to dance around his kitchen with his noodles.

he drains them, slaps some pesto sauce on, and calls it a day. 

“sorry, i only made enough for one person,” he says, walking out into the living room. the boy looks up, shakes his head to say ‘it’s okay.’

jaemin is three bites into his meal when the boy mumbles something too quiet to hear. jaemin lets out a ‘hm?’.

“chocolate muffin,” the boy repeats, louder, “you got any?”

jaemin does. they’re in a box in his room.

“my room,” he says, getting up and bringing his pasta with him. the boy follows.

jaemin pulls one of the treats from the box, handing it to the boy. “take off the wrapper this time,” he says, “there’s a trash can by my desk.” the trash can is filled with only muffin wrappers.

the boy takes a bite, then another, and soon he’s finished. jaemin finishes his meal too, laying the bowl on his desk and flopping onto his bed.

“so,” he starts, “what are your plans for the night?”

“i have no other option but to stay here, if that’s alright, my friend can’t bring me his spare keys until tomorrow morning.” the boy looks down at his socked feet, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. jaemin pats him over, and he lays down in the space next to jaemin.

“what’s your name?”

“renjun,” _renjun_. "may i ask the same?”

“jaemin,” he says with a shaky breath. renjun plays with his fingers for a moment, before he speaks up again.

“well, i know your name now, so it won’t be as awkward when i do this.”

jaemin is about to ask, ‘do what?’, but renjun’s lips are pressed hungrily against his own, and all he can think of doing is _kiss him back_. so he does.

renjun’s tongue presses at his lips, asking jaemin to open his mouth, and normally he would think it too soon into the kiss to make out. but he parts his lips anyways, sucks on renjun’s tongue, pulls the smaller boy into his lap. renjun straddles him willingly, grabbing the sides of his face, pressing closer.

their hips slot together, renjun presses them down, jaemin’s fingers tingle. he brushes them against renjun’s sides, pushing up his shirt, squeezing his waist. he wraps an arm around their close bodies, holding him tightly. he breaks the kiss to bite at renjun’s neck and pulls a moan out of the smaller boy. renjun drives his hips down again and jaemin’s vision blurs. they kiss again, panting into each other’s mouths.

“i don’t think,” renjun starts, cutting himself off with a whimper, “i don’t think we should go any farther.”

“agreed,” jaemin sighs, he needs nothing but renjun in his lap and their mouths connected.

they kiss softly, calming themselves down, before jaemin slides renjun off of his lap. he walks to his dresser, pulling out sweatpants and a shirt for renjun to wear to bed. he tosses them onto the bed, and slides under the covers. renjun weasels his way under the comforter once he’s done changing, and they lay together. the last thing jaemin sees before drifting to sleep is renjun’s smiling face.

he wakes up to an empty bed, and an aching heart.

 

 

weeks pass. there’s no sign of renjun anywhere.

the days are being eaten up by the summer heat, all jaemin can do is work and go home and work and go home. he refrains from spending time with jeno or mark, too caught up in his childlike emotions to want to associate with happiness.

the bell on the door rings. jaemin whips his head around to be met with jeno’s face.

“wish i knew what you were lookin’ for,” jeno says, chuckling, “clock out. we’re hanging out tonight.”

he tries to protest, but the words get caught in his throat when jeno claps in excitement. the smile on his face is too bright, jaemin can’t bring himself to rob him of his happiness.

 

 

halfway into their second bottle of vodka, jaemin spills his guts sitting on the living room floor. he tells jeno everything that happened, how he feels stupid for falling for someone he met twice.

“i feel you, you’re not stupid,” jeno reassures, “some people are so alluring that you can’t bring yourself not to fall for them. they just have a charm that you’re attracted to. it happens to a lot of people.” there's a sad look in jeno's eyes.

“i shouldn’t be so hung up over it, though. it’s been a month.” he slurs.

his stomach sinks. a month. it’s been a month of obsessing over the boy. _renjun_. his insides stir.

jaemin spills his guts sitting on the living room floor. jeno cleans it up for him, and walks him to bed.

 

 

he speaks to the landlord. renjun’s apartment was cleaned out a month ago. he moved to china.

 

 

he’s laying on the basketball court, letting his body absorb the heat from the blacktop, when he spots renjun from across the street. it’s been a year but he looks all the same. still beautiful. he sits up in shock.

there’s a longing, a need, it weaves through jaemin’s ribs and punctures his heart. he’s bleeding out from the inside, everything he’s ever wanted to say is overflowing out of his body but is trapped between organs and skin.

he lets him go. he watches him walk away. jeno squeezes jaemin’s hand, their fingers intertwined.

“what is it, baby?” he says sweetly.

jaemin gulps, heart caught in his throat, “nothing.” 

his heart belongs to jeno now. but, renjun took a piece of him that he will never get back.

**Author's Note:**

> she's sad :-(
> 
> im not good at writing or whatever so writing something a little lengthier and more depressing than my usual was pretty difficult; but i pumped this bad boy out in about two hours.
> 
> the whole time i listened to under the milky way and destination, both by the church, beautiful songs. this was meant to be a cute summer love fic but the tone and lyrics of the songs took me into a different direction so
> 
> leave prompts/ships you would like me to write in the comments, or dm them to me on my twitter @slutsicheng. my tumblr is @yesu-ng.
> 
> thank u for reading :-)


End file.
